Last weekend, I was reminded that a group of pink apron-wearing, fixed-up hair, fancy jean-wearing women from rural Alberta are nothing to mess with.
There have been days fresh in my mind, where I’ve felt a bit like the fifth grader who missed the memo that today is Pajama Day at school — just a little awkward.
I once read that you would be amazed at what you could accomplish if you actually stayed home five days in a row.
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